He's Death's Master
by Nemoway
Summary: and errand boy... After the final battle, Harry became the Master of Death. Six years later, he is now working with the reapers. Soon though his life will become entangled in a violent plot for revenge, and learn true annoyance in the form of a certain mysterious butler.
1. Chapter 1

From the moment he had grasped the Elder Wand he had known that there was more to the story than just a made up work of fiction. Well, he had known since visiting the Lovegood's house really, but this had just cemented it. So when he fell asleep that night and arrived in a seemingly empty void of blackness, he wasn't all that surprised.

"I suppose this means what I think it does then," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Yepperdoodle!" answered the overly cheerful voice of Death from behind him. He turned around and saw him sitting cross legged in the midst of the dark void that seemed to entirely make up the place. Death was… an interesting character to say the least. His hair was a sherbert orange, and his eyes seemed to constantly shift through colors. Freckles dotted his cheeks and he seemed to be around 16. He wore a tie dye shirt and jean shorts, and no shoes. It was odd, most seem to have the idea that Death is an older man, wearing a suit, a no nonsense sort of person, harsh and strict, but this was anything but that. It seemed fitting in a way, why add on to the gloom of it all?

"So," he began, mirroring the being in front of him and sitting cross legged as well " what exactly is my job as Master of Death?"

"Well, you don't really have a job per se, it's more of just the title I guess… I might've given some nudges here and there to make sure you got the Hallows… I like you kid, you won't abuse this. So, details, um," he paused for a moment, trying to remember," well, you can order me to do things I guess, and you're immortal, that's a plus. You're gonna get a wicked cool power boost, and you've got the Hallows, which you'll find on your bedside table in the morning. Just a warning, I think the Wesley kid was really wanting that wand before, you might want to watch him, just in case,"

Harry nodded, not even bothering to correct the being about Ron's name. He wasn't angry about what Death had said, he had seen the greed and power lust in his friend's eyes as well. It was part of the reason why he broke the wand. But there had to be more to this than just being immortal and having Death at his beck and call. Before he could get the question out, Death started speaking again.

"You were originally supposed to help me with the whole reaping business, but I already got Shinigami to deal with that. Oh, I suppose this means you can order them around as well… huh…. What to do, what to do…" he sat there pondering for a moment, before he suddenly perked up as the figurative lightbulb of idea lit up his eyes. " I know! You'll be my entertainment! I mean, I might ask you to do a couple things here and there, but, I like that idea. And I'll pop in and talk to you of course! It gets lonely, being Death, I mean there are the Shinigami, and the demons, and the angels, but the angels are pricks, the Shinigami that I've met are such sticklers for rules, and demons tend to get annoyed with me pretty quickly," he glanced down for a moment, expression slightly bitter.

Not wanting to see the guy sad, Harry quickly moved on, hoping to take his mind off of it.

"Well that sounds easy enough, and it'll be good to have another friend, especially now with this, because I'm definitely not telling Ron and Hermione about this. I've known them long enough to know they will react badly. Ginny too for that matter." he paused, "Is that all? It sounds simple enough."

Death nodded

"Basically. I'll only call you in sometimes, or if you just want to help out that's great too. Otherwise, you just get to kind of hang out for all of eternity! You can go from universe to universe too, there's a bunch of other dimensions I think you'd find interesting."

"Really? There are other dimensions?"

"Yepperdoodle!" answered the being, grinning from ear to ear. "A whole bunch of em too, I don't think you'll really get bored, and it's not like you won't have any friends cuz there's a bunch of immortals throughout the galaxy." pausing for a moment, he tilted his head, as tho trying to make out a distant sound. " You have to go now Master, but we'll see each other soon enough. Ta ta now!"

Harry woke that morning surprisingly refreshed. He hadn't had sleep that was nightmare free for far too long. Though he wasn't too sure about the whole Death calling him Master. They'd have to work on that. Looking over, he grabbed his glasses, and saw, just as promised, the elder wand and resurrection stone, back in place in its ring. There was a note next to it.

 _Hey, Master! Here are the Hallows, just as promised! I put the stone back into the ring, and fit it for your right middle finger, thought it would be easier that way. Don't know when I'll next have time to pop in, so in the meantime, as that one weird guy always said, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Lot's of Love, :Death._

All around the words were doodles of skulls and crossbones, hearts, and peace signs. Smiling, he put the note back down and picked up the ring and wand. After slipping the ring on, he held the wand, realizing that he should probably get a holster for it. Keeping it in his backpocket wouldn't do.

Sighing, he got up and looked around. Ron had come in sometime during the night and was sleeping in his four poster. He walked over to the mirror. Since he had been camping across the countryside for the past year, he hadn't had the chance to look at himself. He looked almost skeletal now, pale, and malnourished. His hair, which had already been longer than it should have been, since he had always had to cut it himself, was now at his shoulders.

"Well, at least it's not going to be an uncontrollable mess anymore. Hmm… Maybe I should get something to help tame it anyway. What did Hermione use in fourth year? I'll have to ask her."

He had been too exhausted after the battle to do anything besides collapse into bed, and he could definitely feel it. Shuddering in disgust, he started to make his way to the showers before remembering that Hermione was the one with his clothes. Damn it. Speaking of clothes, he definitely had to buy new ones. He _would not_ wear those rags again. _Ever._

"Okay, when did I start seriously caring about what I looked like?"

"Since me!" exclaimed a voice right next to his ear. Startled, he whipped around, only to find Death grinning madly next to him. "Can't have my Master looking like a street urchin can we? You're important, so you're gonna look it kay? Well, I mean, you're gonna be clean and stuff. I don't really care about the whole suit and tie business, but, you do you man, you do you. Now, since you don't have anything to do that with, I'll help you out a bit."

Death snapped his fingers and Harry could feel the magic, so different from that of a regular wizard, yet familiar and comforting at the same time. He had felt this so many times before now, he realized, but was never aware enough to notice. The magic enveloped him, and like that he was clean, and dressed in new clothes. Clothes that fit. It was like heaven.

Looking down, he realized that he was now a prime example of the generic angsty teen. Ripped black skinny jeans, clunky boots covered in buckles up his calves, and a black t shirt sporting the symbol of the Hallows. He could see his aunt's face twisting in disgust and horror and chuckled. His hair was clean, and free of tangles, hanging down around his face, reminding him of his late Potions Master. Joy.

"I might've also taken the liberty of giving you some eyeliner," Death guiltily admitted. " I know you aren't really the whole angsty emo teen, but I still thought it would look cool. It's not permanent don't worry… But, um, I do have to tell you that you might have some changes in the next few weeks… You're immortal, and the Master of Death, and there are some things that go along with that I guess, but… I don't really know what'll happen, so, just, be prepared! I'll check in every once in awhile, but I might have to take a different form… don't worry," he giggled. " you'll know it's me. Though it might not be a form that'll help your standing with people."

Still giggling, the being vanished before Harry could question what exactly he meant by that. Just then, Ron walked in, still rubbing his eyes.

"Oh there you are Harry, Hermione and I were look-" Ron stopped, mid sentence, and stared wide eyed at Harry. "What the hell happened? Where did you get those clothes, and - _is that eyeliner?_ "

Harry groaned. Why on earth did Death have to make such drastic changes? It was gonna be like this all day.

"Yes, and I got them from a friend. Where's Hermione?"

Ron didn't answer for a moment, goggling at Harry's new look. Shaking his head, he seemed to come to his senses.

"She's," the redhead started dazedly, pointing behind him, " down in the common room waiting. We were gonna go talk to McGonagall. See what she wanted us to start on."

"What are you waiting for then?" mentally preparing for what was sure to be the Professor switching between praising them and ranting about their stupidity, he forced a grin onto his face and walked past Ron. He looked back over his shoulder to see Ron still standing, staring at him leave. Sighing he kept walking, calling back over his shoulder, " Let's go!"


	2. Chapter 2

The changes had come quickly, and painfully. He had had to put permanent silencing charms around his bed so no one would hear him. The first and most painful change was the tattoo. That was proving fun to hide from everyone. The main portion of it covered his entire back with the symbol of the Hallows. Well, when he said the Hallows were tattooed, really that was what _wasn't_ inked onto him. The symbol formed from the skin that was showing through the swirling and ever moving mess that appeared to be the souls of the damned. It was mostly on his back, but at times, the blackness would elegantly seep and swirl across the rest of him. It was quite pretty actually.

When questioned, Death simply shrugged and stated plainly:

"I thought it looked cooler." Harry supposed that meant it wasn't the souls of the damned after all. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Next came his height. Now, one would expect him to rise up above his decent height of 5'9", but he was Harry Potter, and things didn't work that way when it came to him. Instead he had shrunk down to an underwhelming 5'3".

Along with this came a shift in his bone structure. He had taken on a more effeminate, androgynous look, similar to Death's own. They definitely looked related now. These changes were gradual, and took about a week to fully settle, and made him extremely sore during that time and for a couple days after. He also found that his eyesight was fixed. He enjoyed destroying the glasses.

He noted happily that he could still speak with snakes. Although everyone else had despised the power in second year, he had secretly loved it. The garden snakes had been his only conversation while at the Dursley's. Even during the trio's impromptu camping trip, he had continued to talk with the serpents of the forest, to get away from the stress of it all for even just a few minutes, to talk about something other than Voldemort and their impending doom if they didn't do something _right now Harry._

The magical power boost Death had mentioned arrived, and he was now able to perform simple things with more of a thought and a wave of his hand than an actual spell. However, he did continue to use his holly wand, so his friends wouldn't start questioning why he was suddenly proficient in both non verbal and wandless magic.

He wasn't planning on ever telling them about the whole Master of Death thing. Harry knew how'd they, and everyone else would react, not to mention the stories the Prophet and the Ministry would spread about him, never mind the fact that he had just saved the entire wizarding world from the Dark Lord.


	3. Chapter 3

As Death had said, it was quite easy to know when the being decided to pop in for a visit. Even though he looked different every time, Harry always knew it was him. So when a thirteen year old girl in a hufflepuff uniform sat in front of him on the lawn and handed him two hair ties, he didn't even pause in his conversation with Ron and Hermione.

Grabbing the hair ties, he pulled them onto his wrist for safe keeping and started braiding her long shimmering blue hair, still telling his friends, who were now gawking at him, about his idea for promoting inter house unity.

* * *

As he watched Ginny run away crying, he realized that he should have expected this, now that the war was over, and there was no Voldemort to threaten their relationship. To be truthful, he had forgotten about their relationship until now. When he broke it off, it was to protect her, yes, but he had also hoped she would find someone else while he was away.

He sighed, bringing a hand up to his cheek where she had slapped him, yelling about marriage and false promises. Why must she be so dramatic? He had made no such promise, and he never would. Ginny was his sister, and having her as his wife, much less his girlfriend, would have felt too wrong.

And then there was the fact that he was beginning to question his own attraction to the female population in general. Indeed, it seemed to him that the voice he had argued with about not liking Dean simply because she was Ron's sister had been correct after all. Had he just been trying to delude himself into thinking that this was what he wanted? Was he so eager to please that he had talked _himself_ into thinking he had liked Ginny romantically?

Though, he had grown up with the Dursley's, not getting much affection. There was always the possibility that he just didn't know what he was feeling and had chalked it up to being romantic feelings. Either way, the relationship would not be continuing, he had made sure of that. Ron might be angry with him for awhile for hurting his sister's feelings but that was something he was used to by now and could deal with easily.

* * *

"Hey Potter!"

Harry looked over, and started laughing. Death was sitting in a tree, this time as an older Slytherin boy with pale blonde hair, looking oh so similar to a certain pureblood, who had sat in a tree mocking him in fourth year. But this boy was smiling widely, giggling, obviously having fun posing dramatically in the tree limbs.

"Get down, before you fall and break your neck!"

"You know that's not a problem!"

Harry chuckled. That was very true indeed.

"Um, Harry?" came Hermione's hesitant voice. "Do you….know him?"

Before Harry could answer however, he was tackled from the side, and sent tumbling into the grass. Groaning he looked down at the laughing boy who had landed on top of him. Looks like he had taken his advice after all, and gotten down from the tree, though, getting tackled had not been part of his plan.

"Did you really have to do that?" Harry complained, struggling to get up since Death seemed adamant on clinging to him.

"No, but it was fun!" Death finally let go, clambering to his feet. "Dasvidaniya!" the being called over his shoulder as he raced off. Soon he was around the corner of the castle and out of sight. Harry sighed, and, smiling, turned back to face his friends who were staring at him in shock and confusion. He didn't say anything, just turned back and continued his work of moving crumbled chunks of the castle, still grinning slightly.

* * *

Harry sat on top of the astronomy tower, looking up at the stars. Everyone else was hanging out in the common room. The cheery atmosphere had been too much for him to handle that night. Someone slid down the wall to sit next to him. Looking over, he saw Death, as expected, but this time, it wasn't in some other form. He was simply there, as he was, and that little detail brightened Harry's mood considerably.

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, watching the stars, simply enjoying the company of the other. Finally, Harry asked,

"What's your favorite color?"

Death smiled softly, thinking for a moment.

"Robins Egg, I think," and then he chuckled. "What's yours, red?"

"No," Harry replied laughing, " it's actually Lavender."

They stayed up all night talking, and ended up falling asleep up there, cuddled together for warmth.

* * *

With everyone working practically nonstop, the job of putting the castle together was almost finished by mid August. There were still a few finishing touches that the trio had wanted to stay and help with, but Professor McGonagall had all but forced them to go out and do something. In the end, they had decided to head into Diagon Alley, where they were currently eating lunch at a small cafe.

It was nice, sitting together at one of the small outdoor tables, laughing like old times. Sure his smiles were smaller, and his laughs shorter and not as loud, but he was and that was what counted, right?

He wasn't sure anymore. It seemed he had to force himself to act normally these days. He was still having nightmares each night, and he suspected that they were going to continue to haunt him for awhile. He had taken to simply trying to avoid sleep instead, desperate to avoid watching it happen all over again.

"Harry?" he started, looking over at Hermione, who seemed slightly concerned.

"You were zoning out a bit there, mate," explained Ron. " We've been trying to get your attention. You okay man?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure, Harry? You seem to be doing this a lot lately."

"Yeah, Hermione, I'm fine."

He smiled gently at her, hoping she would just let it go. He didn't want her to be worried for him. Before she could go on , there was a commotion across the street. Someone had begun to play a violin, case open, hoping to earn something. Suddenly Harry had an idea. Leaning over, he whispered into Ron's ear. When he moved back, Ron grinned at him and turned to Hermione. Holding out his hand he asked,

"May I have this dance?"

Laughing, she took the red head's hand and let him lead her into the courtyard, where they began to sway, smiling widely. There were a couple exclamations from the crowd of, 'aww, cute'. Soon more couples had joined the two, and some others simply watched from the sidelines, smiles of nostalgia on their faces, remembering a time from long ago.

Harry watched with them from his place at the table, though the smile on his face was not of remembrance. It was a wistful smile, full of a sort of sadness, though about what, he wasn't quite sure.


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry finished helping out at Hogwarts, he moved into Grimmauld Place. Once he had explained why exactly they had not been able to come back for dinner, the elf had forgiven him. Together, the two had finished cleaning the house, and refurbishing it. He kept the old decor, even the elf heads at Kreacher's insistence, although they were moved to the attic.

Though he had never had the heart to tell Sirius, with him ranting about his family and his unending hatred towards the house, Harry had rather liked the way the place was, after it had been cleaned up. He did add some of his own touches to some of the bedrooms that were not majorly decorated. One room he painted and furnished entirely in different shades of purple simply because he could. He liked the color.

When he entered the library, he had immediately fallen in love. Although he hadn't shown it much in school, he did love books, not quite to the extent Hermione would go, but he did. Once he had finished repairing the house he spent hours on end in the library, learning more than he ever had in Hogwarts. He knew now that Dark Magic was not necessarily bad, and did not make you evil. You could just as easily torture someone with Light Magic, and it might even be worse.

Despite the fact that Hermione would kill him when she found out, Harry decided not to return to Hogwarts for the offered eighth year. Instead he studied on his own, delving into both sides of Magic. Sometimes Death would come and tutor him as well, since he basically knew everything there was to know. It was sort of lonely with all his friends at Hogwarts, but he wasn't too bothered. Every once in awhile he would join Ron and Hermione in Hogsmeade, and they would sit in the Three Broomsticks or the Hogs Head, or just walk around.

That spring, Harry went to the ministry and took his N.E.W.T.S. He knew he would do well, he had gone above and beyond in his studying, but what he hadn't expected was to place at the top, much less get one of the highest scores in history. He was surprised and ecstatic, while Ron just stared, dumbfounded. Hermione, however, was shocked at first, but that soon gave way to a look of… disappointment?

"Harry," she began, in a tone that was almost condescending. "I know you want to be an Auror, but you simply cannot _bribe_ your way into the program. You didn't even take the test, we would have known if you were at Hogwarts, if you were going to do this, at least make it believable Harry! They will look at your scores and see an average student, not the genius displayed on this test! What were you thinking Harry? This isn't like you, to just use your fame and money to get what you want! You could be _arrested_ for this!"

Harry gaped at her. Did she really think he was capable of such a thing? Did she really believe he was so incompetent to not be able to do anything? He glanced at Ron, who was staring at Hermione, confused as to why she would say that. Looking back to Hermione, he felt anger and betrayal.

"You really think I bribed my way in? You really think I'm able to do such a thing? I've been studying on my own this whole time. Grimmauld Place has a library better than Hogwarts does. I even got a tutor to help me. And in case you've forgotten, Hogwarts isn't the only place you can take N.E.W.T.S.. There are bunch of kids who are homeschooled and take the test at the ministry, which is exactly what I did. But thank you for showing me what you really think. I'll be leaving now."

And with that he walked out of the pub and into the street, before turning on the spot and apparating into Grimmauld. Walking into the parlor, he saw Death sitting in on the couch, reading some book in Japanese. Glancing up, the being patted the spot next to him, opening up the blanket he had around himself to let Harry in. They stayed like that for a long time, Death running his hands through his hair, and Harry wondering what on earth he had done to make Hermione think that of him.

"What happened Harry?"

And so Harry told him about how he had scored, and what Hermione had said.

"You didn't do anything Harry. Hermione just isn't used to people beating her in academics. She's been on top for so long Harry. She's only seen you a few times in the last few months. When she saw you last you had average grades and liked to goof off with Ron. Though that doesn't excuse her jumping to conclusions like that, not when she's known you for so long."

"Yeah… you're right. It just hurt a lot that she didn't think I could do that on my own. But it is such a drastic change from where I was," He sighed, and looked over. "You wanna have a sleepover on the couch?"

Death grinned.

"You pick out the movie, I'll go make popcorn."


	5. Chapter 5

When he first met Grelle, he hadn't been sure what to think. In fact, he still wasn't, but he supposed he had tolerated him long enough to develop a sort of fondness for the reaper who had practically taken over his house. Harry still wasn't sure how he had managed it.

There was now something red in almost every room, though he had mercifully left the rooms Harry had carefully decorated in certain colours alone. To make up for that, he just took an undecorated room for himself and decorated it solely in red, black, and grey. Harry found himself wearing quite a bit more red now a days, since Grelle had taken the liberty of adding to his closet.

" _Haaarrryyy!" called Death, throwing his bedroom door open. The being truly didn't have any sense of privacy. "Guess what?! I found a reaper who isn't boring! Isn't it great, Harry?! Ooh, you're gonna love him!"_

 _Harry sat up sleepily, rubbing his eye. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was the middle of the night. Death flipped the light switch, illuminating the room, and causing Harry to flinch at the sudden change. He covered his face, groaning. Once his eyes had accustomed to the light, he glared over at Death, who was standing beside his bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet._

" _That's good, but did you really feel the need to wake me up at_ _ **2 in the bloody morning?**_ "

" _I'm sorrryyy! I couldn't wait though!"_

 _Suddenly, a figure clad in red wandered into the door still gazing around._

" _I have to say, this is a nice place you got here." Moving forward into the room, the person's eyes finally rested on Harry. Stumbling forward, they somehow managed to prevent themselves from careening onto the carpet, all the while staring, wide-eyed, at Harry. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself being crushed in a bear hug, a loud squealing in his ear. They finally pulled back, holding him at arm's length to get a better look at him. Finally, they turned to Death with an accusing stare. "You didn't tell me that he was this cute! I could have done with a decent warning before being presented with a gorgeous specimen like this!"_

From that day forward, Grelle would randomly arrive at Grimmauld with some article of clothing, and have him put it on. It didn't matter whether it was for girls or boys, if Grelle liked it, Harry would be wearing it. He had given up trying to protest after the first few times.

Grelle had also taken to spending vast amounts of time at Harry's house. Harry had simply given him his own room since he was there so often. Not that that had done any good, as the redhead would still come and curl around Harry like a cat, no matter how many times he pushed the man out of the bed.

He found he didn't mind too much, in the long run. It was nice to have someone besides the Weasleys to talk to.


	6. Chapter 6

Mrs. Weasley had started a new tradition of family dinners every Sunday, which, she said, included him too, no excuses. The dinner's themselves were not the problem for him, no, it was instead, Ginny, who seemed to have gotten over the fact that he had dumped her, and was now viciously trying to seduce him. Her persistence was actually starting to scare him a little.

Each time he saw her, her outfits seemed to have gotten either shorter, more revealing, or both. When they talked, she would always stand slightly too close, causing many to look at her with disapproval, and at Harry with pity. At dinner, he would try to sit as far away from her as possible, George aiding him in his quest to avoid the girl. Although Ron didn't seem to get it, and would often give Ginny his seat when she asked him if she could sit next to Harry instead, Hermione understood and would stay where she was, though this caused Ginny to glare at her with frustration, and glance between the two suspiciously.

Often she would invite herself along with the trio whenever they had the chance to do something. Ron and Hermione had recently gotten jobs at the ministry, so they hadn't been able to hang out as much as they had been able to in the past months.

Along with weekly dinners at the Weasley's, he had also been dragged to the biweekly meetings with the reapers. Now he knew what Death had meant when he said that the reapers were sticklers for the rules. Though he had found that if he got William drunk enough, he could shake him out of his shell and get him to have some fun. He did have a sense of self-preservation though and didn't do it often. Once given the chance though, and away from the red obsessed man who seemed to lust after every good looking man he saw, he wasn't bad company.

Harry was often tasked with small missions, either an errand the others were too lazy to do or something the Administrative division thought would go faster with a little magic. It was a bit annoyed at first, having to constantly switch back between the modern way of life, and how things were in the Victorian Age. As months passed though, he was completely used to it, sometimes even more comfortable in those clothes than his regular ones. Learning the different mannerisms had been a challenge at first, but he had gotten them down soon enough.

* * *

" _Absolutely not."_

" _Please, my L-"_

" _How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!"_

" _Look, I'm sorry about this, but you're the only one who can-"_

" _There are females in the London Branch aren't there? Ask one of them!"_

" _There are only a few, and they've all refused, besides, none of them have magic, and that would make this infinitely easier-"_

" _What about Grelle then?! He's always boasting about his womanly prowess, or whatever it is!"_

" _You and I both know that he wouldn't be able to do this job!" answered William, raising his voice for the first time. "For all his talk of womanly charms, he couldn't act as one for a moment! This job requires us to blend in, and you know he can't do that. No one would care in this century, but there is a certain decorum there, and it will blow the entire mission if I take him. Besides, he's too tall, and then the fact that I really don't want to have to deal with him all night."_

 _Groaning, Harry collapsed into an armchair, putting his head in his hands. William was looking at him, still seeming calm and collected, but Harry knew he was desperate. He sighed in defeat. His hands still on his face, he mumbled,_

" _Fine, I'll wear the stupid dress, just don't expect me to do it again."_

He had said that the next few times as well until he eventually gave up and realized that he would just have to get used to it. He supposed he didn't really mind anymore. Sure, he did prefer pants, but over the years, he had learned how to do his job just as efficiently in a dress. Running in heels was second nature to him now, and though some might not consider that an accomplishment, he found it to be a quite necessary, not to mention difficult, thing to do.

Over the years he had been working with the London Branch, he had perfected the different people he portrayed. Since he was forever stuck at seventeen, he didn't have to worry about his voice cracking, or growing out of his disguises, which made things a lot easier for him. At this point, his hair was long enough that he didn't even have to wear a wig.

Soon enough he probably knew more about women's clothes and makeup than most women did. He tended not to dwell on it, lest he regret all of his life choices.


	7. Chapter 7

In all honesty, he was amazed that Ron and Hermione hadn't discovered Grelle in the five years since the man had started practically living with him. They had always seemed to time their visits for whenever the reaper had been out working. All good things, however, must come to an end, and Harry was extremely lucky to have made it this far. He knew it was only a matter of time before his luck ended though, and was dreading the day it would.

* * *

The day came sooner than he had hoped. The other three, as it was pointless to leave Ginny out of the group now since she would tag along whether they wanted to or not, had noticed his prolonged absences. Lately, he had been spending more and more time in the other dimension, helping the London Branch with whatever mission they had, which meant that he had not spent as much time in the modern time. Hell, he had missed a Sunday dinner, of course, they noticed. But when you have an impromptu movie night with William freaking Spears, nothing less than the apocalypse would have moved him.

So Harry had ended up inviting them to Grimmauld for dinner. Which, considering Grelle was currently napping on his bed, was not one of his better ideas. It was the only thing he could think of to get them to stop badgering him. Sure he could have taken them to a restaurant, but he had decided against it, deciding it would be better to kill two birds with one stone. They had been worried about him spending all his time in Grimmauld, assuming that he had left it the way it was, dark, gloomy, and dusty, and insisting it wasn't good to stay there all the time.

After him blowing up at her, Hermione had been dying to see the library, though he wasn't sure she would appreciate it like he did. She was still convinced that Light Magic was the only way, and believed the lies of the Ministry, thinking that Dark Magic and those who practiced it were evil. For all her reading, she really didn't grasp the finer details, her views were black and white, not understanding that nothing was as simple as that.

There was gray mixed in with the black and white, and not everything was in aesthetically pleasing boxes. The blacks, and whites, and greys were all swirled together, bleeding across the hypothetical paper, like the art project from eighth grade that had you up all night pulling your hair out, trying desperately to make the watercolour work with matter what anyone said, no one except the angels were fully Light, and no one except the Demons were fully Dark. Even then, either one could still be infected by the other.

Soft knocking at the door brought him out of his thoughts. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was already 5:30. He pulled himself out of the chair he was in and made his way to the door, hoping against hope that Grelle would stay asleep, or at least stay out of sight. When the knocking got a little louder, he called out, 'Just a minute', and sped up a bit.

Reaching the door he quickly unlocked it, and pulled it open, revealing the figures of his friends, inwardly groaning at the sight of Ginny's outfit. She had donned a tight black dress, which was both low cut and short. She had put on ample amounts of makeup and perfume, and Harry was trying his best not to gag. Hermione looked nice, wearing a green sweater, and black skinny jeans, while Ron wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans.

"Hey you guys, glad you could come," no he wasn't.

"Of course, Harry," responded Hermione, smiling at him. He moved to the side, opening the door a little wider to allow them entry. Since he had moved Mrs. Black's painted to the attic with the elf heads, they didn't have to worry about being quiet anymore, which was nice.

Soon they were all in the kitchen, chatting about work and hobbies and whatever, while Harry made dinner. Once he had finished, they sat down to eat, laughing and just talking, while Harry tried to ignore Ginny glances toward him, and how she was slowing shifting her chair closer. He had also notice Hermione glancing at him oddly a couple times, and wondered what that was about. About halfway through dinner, he got his answer.

"So, Harry," started Hermione. " What have you been up to? We hardly ever see you any more."

"Nothing much really, I guess," he replied, unsure of what exactly he should tell her. "I've been working with a few friends lately, that's been nice."

"Oh? Who are they? Do we know them?" Harry felt his cheeks heat up slightly, uncomfortable with Hermione's scrutiny of him.

"Um, no, you wouldn't," He coughed out. Hermione hummed thoughtfully, still watching Harry with a piercing gaze.

"I was wondering, Harry," cut in Ginny, her tone honeyed, and smile looking a little strained. " where you got that jewelry? You never seemed like the type to buy those things."

"I was thinking about that too, mate." agreed Ron. Harry looked down at his hands, realizing he had forgotten to take off the many rings he had been given by some of the men he had to either kill or get info out of. Apparently, they had liked him a little too much, and instead of simply trying to get under his skirt, they had decided they wanted to try and win his heart. Although there were many that were gifted to him by Ronald, a young reaper from the retrieval division, taken from some dead noble woman's collection, or sometimes even her corpse.

Every one of his fingers was adorned, in his ears were simple gold studs, and it wasn't even close to the amount he had collected over the years. Upstairs there were boxes of bracelets, necklaces, earrings, more rings, and even a few headpieces.

"They, uh," pausing, Harry continued to look at his hands, desperately trying to think of a way to explain as Ginny's eyes narrowed. " they were gifts." he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort, cheeks reddening as Hermione and Ginny looked at him skeptically, and Ron simply looked confused.

"From _who_ though?" he asked. " Some of those look really expensive, Harry."

"Yeah, Harry, I want to know too. Maybe they can hook me up with some as well," chimed in Hermione, winking. She then giggled, and a sly smile worked its way onto her face. Realizing what she was about to imply, his eyes widened. He tried to stop her, but it was too late. " Those aren't really something a friend would give, Harry. Is there something you aren't telling us?"

And then, at quite possibly the worst possible moment in all of existence, Grelle walked in. It wouldn't have been too terribly big of a deal, if he wasn't wearing some of the tightest leather pants Harry had ever seen, and one of Harry's old Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys. Harry let his head fall into his hands with a groan. The tension was building as the other three stared at the redhead, and Grelle took in what was happening.

"Oh, sorry, Harry dear, I didn't realize you had guests over."

And just like that, the dam burst. Ginny jumped up.

"You're gay?! What the hell, Harry?! You dated me for six months, dump me without fulfilling any of your promises, and go running off to this slutty guy?" she shouted, looking furious, and for some reason beyond Harry's comprehension, betrayed. She glanced at him and saw him peeking out at her through his fingers. Then she focused on the rings, looking back and forth between them and Grelle. " Oh my gosh. Is, is he _paying_ you?!"

There was a moment of silence, where the others looked between the rings and Grelle, eyes widening slowly. Then Grelle burst out laughing, which led Harry to start giggling incredulously.

"You, you thought," choked out Grelle, still laughing. " that, _Harry and I,_ were _dating_? And that I was his sugar daddy or something? Have you even _met_ him?"

Ginny stared wide eyed at the flamboyant man who was bent over laughing near the doorway. After a moment he straightened up, now only chuckling, and looked back at Ginny.

"I don't even make anything close to that kind of money anyway, so it's not like I actually could, even if I wanted to."

"Grelle you don't even _get_ paid."

"Touché."

* * *

Alright ya'll first author's note I suppose. It was bound to happen eventually.

To Elfin69 : you are amazing and I'm glad someone adores Death as much as I do. And yes, I was very much debating having them together, so I just might write that spinoff you're dying for. I hope this answers your question about Ginny, and yes indeed, she'll keep at it. I aspire to make people hate her with the same burning passion I do.

I hope you guys know that everything just gets worse from there, so prepare for sadness next chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't mean to be rude," cut in Hermione rudely, " but if you aren't Harry's boyfriend, who _are_ you?"

"Harry's roommate and bestie of course! And colleague too I suppose, though I don't really like to dwell on thoughts of work."

"Unless it's about ' _William'_ ," broke in Harry, speaking the director's name with a scarily accurate impression of Grelle lusting over the director. The redhead didn't even try to deny it, having been sent down the road of fantasies best unspoken of.

"I thought _I_ was Harry's best mate," mumbled Ron, the first actual words to come out of his mouth since Grelle had entered the room.

"I thought Harry said you didn't get paid. How are you colleagues if you don't get paid?" asked Hermione, ignoring Ron.

"Well, you see," began Grelle, obviously struggling to come up with some way to explain. " it's, well, it's a complicated mess, that you, my dear, have no business knowing." cowering at the glare the young witch sent his way, the reaper turned his eyes to Harry, silently begging for help. Sighing, Harry looked to Hermione, who was going back and forth between him and Grelle, foot tapping expectantly.

"He's right, Hermione," admitted Harry, sounding resigned. He winced slightly as her glare came around at him full force.

"And why is that Harry? We're your best friends," she glanced at Grelle for a moment, "what on earth is it that you can't tell us?" She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening. She stared at Harry, looking shocked and vaguely fearful. " You didn't, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did, Harry."

Now everyone was watching Hermione, confused.

"Hermione?" asked Ron, tentatively. "What is it?"

"You, you've joined some sort of gang, haven't you? That's where you got those rings and things, and why you don't get paid, and why you can't talk about it!" She was verging near hysterical, waving her hands around, eyes constantly flicking between the two. Before she could continue, however, she was cut off by Grelle, who was once again bent over cackling.

"You, _idiotic_ _child_. Again, I must ask the question, have you ever met your supposed " _best friend"?_ You think, that, Harry, this lovely, _lovely_ boy, would go and get involved with anything of the sort?" He paused before snorting softly, probably remembering the times Harry had had to pretend to be a prostitute.

Flushing, the girl lowered her eyes to the floor, shamefaced. Harry was amused for a moment, before what she had just accused him of actually hit him. Not for the first time, he wondered what he had done to make her jump to conclusions like this. They had been best friends for thirteen years now, though, admittedly they hadn't spent as much time together the past five. His mind jumped back the years to when she had assumed he had bribed his way through the N.E.W.T.'s.

Watching her, he realized that although that memory was one that had stuck with him, there were other times when she had done something like this. It hadn't happened so much in their school years, but as they got older, she seemed to look at him in a new, harsher light.

"Hermione?" he started softly, waiting for to look at him, "Why do you keep accusing me of things? It's been going on for _years_ now, Hermione. What have I done to make you think that I would do things like that?

Her eyes were filled with a sort of sadness, dangerously close to pity for a moment, before she seemed to gather herself together. She looked down once more, taking a deep breath. Straightening her shoulders, she raised her head and looked at him, eyes hardened in resolve.

"Because I grew up Harry. I realized things. Years ago, I didn't truly look at you. But I'm twenty two now Harry, and I can't ignore the fact that you are _reckless_. You always were and probably always will be. You jump at the chance of adventure, you rush into things, Harry. You don't always think things through. I _know_ you, Harry," But that was it, wasn't it? She _didn't_ know him, hadn't known him for years now, "you don't realize the full extent of things, and before you know it you're in too deep and can't get out again. It happened with Sirius-"

Harry stood up, chair falling to the ground with a crash. Hermione took a step back in fear at the unbridled _rage_ residing in Harry's eyes. His eyes alone spoke volumes to her and the rest of the occupants of the room. She had had it wrong, jumped once again to conclusions, and had taken it too far.

" _Adventure?_ " his voice was quiet, shaking in restrained fury. "You think that was an _adventure,_ Hermione? You _think,_ that I rushed to save my Godfather from the clutches of Voldemort, for the mere sake of _adventure?_ You think I didn't realize the full extent of things? None of us did, Hermione, we were _fifteen_. How could I have possibly known it was a trap, Hermione, when I had been given wrong information from a _House Elf_ , who we all thought couldn't lie, not to mention _the greatest Legilimens the world had ever seen?_

His voice had risen to a shout by now. Tears were streaming down Hermione's face, but Harry didn't stop.

"You _think,_ that I don't blame myself _everyday_ for what happened that night? You think that my dreams aren't filled with screaming and terror and _pain?_ That they aren't filled with _war,_ and _death,_ and _destruction?_ You think that that moment doesn't haunt me to this day? I-" he stopped, and swallowed, noticing the tears on his own face before continuing in a broken whisper, " I tried to use the _Cruciatus_ , Hermione, because of that."

There were shocked gasps from the trio. Grelle simply looked at the floor, sadness painting his features.

"I don't think you truly realize how the war affected me, Hermione."

"The war-" she took a shaky breath, "the war affected everyone, Harry."

Harry broke once more.

"Everyone wasn't _me,_ Hermione!" he was now shouting even louder that before, " _Everyone,_ didn't have a prophecy looming over their head. _Everyone,_ didn't have an insane Dark Lord, intent on believing said prophecy. _Everyone_ , wasn't depended on by millions of people to save them with only a few shoddy defense spells. _Everyone,_ wasn't tortured through a direct mind link with the Dark Lord. _Everyone,_ wasn't left to go on Horcrux _scavenger hunt_ with only Dumbledore's infuriating clues and said mind link to go by. _Everyone,_ Hermione, didn't walk into a forest to be _killed_ , with the _ghosts of their family_ to give them the strength to actually do it."

And with that he stalked out of the room and up the stairs. The slamming of a door could be heard a few moments later. Silence reigned over the kitchen, the only sound was Hermione's sobbing.

"What have I done?"

* * *

Elfin69- you beautiful child, you are officially my favorite. For now at least. Bask in the glory of my love. (I don't care how old you are I call everyone child. take no offense) Thank you so much for your review, because each time you are giving me ideas. It may not happen for a while, as I already have some of the story still written, but I would love to include something like that in there. That'd be great...

And to the rest of you, thank you so much, I'm so happy y'all like it.


	9. Chapter 9

Once the impertinent brats had been removed from the house, the bushy haired girl still crying, Grelle made his way up the stairs. Following the sounds of banging, he made his way to the training room Harry had built. After the war, Harry had decided to keep himself prepared, and was even more determined when he started helping out the London Branch. Though he was magically powerful, he preferred to try to get out of whatever situation he was in without its aid before using it.

Reaching the doorway, Grelle stood and watched for a while. Harry moved with a sort of flowing grace, almost as if he were dancing. He supposed that with all the balls and parties Harry attended, it was almost second nature to him now. At the moment he was fencing with a training robot thing he had built, the only explanation Grelle had ever gotten about the thing was Harry mumbling something along the lines of, "if a bloody _room_ can do it, so can I.". Grelle had resolved not to ask about it again.

He spoke up once Harry had beaten the robot.

"They've left."

Sighing, the boy turned around, his face tear streaked and blotchy. Grelle tried and failed to hide his wince, but Harry either didn't notice, or just didn't care.

"I- I know that other people suffered as well," he began, "I know that I wasn't the only one. I also know that I was actually very lucky when it came down to physical injuries. But-"

"Not all injuries are physical," finished Grelle. He had been witness to Harry's nightmares more times than he could count. Once Harry told him that the redhead's presence helped keep them away, at least a little bit. He shuddered to think about what they were like when he wasn't there.

"Exactly," sighed Harry, "I feel bad for shouting at her, but, she keeps doing this, and I just can't _take it_ anymore! She had to go through a lot, I'm not trying to say that she didn't, but the simple fact is that she _didn't_ go through what I had to and-"

"Harry," broke it Grelle, before the boy's rambling could get out of hand, " listen to me. I know that these are the first friends you ever made. They are everything to you. But I also want you to ask yourself, ' _would true friends treat you this way? Would true friends accuse you of something that is very obviously something you wouldn't do just for the heck of it? Would true friends let you hide yourself away in this house, without checking on your well being besides the occasional get together every few months?'_

"How many times have they written to you over these past few years, Harry? How many times besides the Weasley dinners have you seen them? Even Draco Malfoy has written you more than they have, Harry! And you've only become friends with him the past two years!

He stopped before he could work himself into full on screaming at the poor boy. Tears were streaming down his face once more, and he looked devastated. Grelle knew that he had known this, but had shoved it down, desperately hoping for it not to be true.

"Just think on it, Harry. I wish I didn't have to leave, but if I don't William will kill me."

Moving forward, he engulfed the smaller man in a tight hug, before loosening his grip. Kissing the top of his head, he turned and headed out the door, his steps significantly less bouncy than usual.

* * *

Thank you all so much for the positive response! I'm so happy that you all like it! I know that my chapters have been pretty short, I'm sorry for that. I had already written these, and had posted them as I had them. But as this is the last of the ones I had written, hopefully the rest of them will be at least a little longer. No more chapters under a thousand words!

I do not have a schedule for posting, but I will try and figure one out. I hope to at least post once a week, if not more, but I will not make any promises. Though if I don't post for a good three weeks I give you permission to yell at me.


	10. Chapter 10

Spending time at Undertakers was always relaxing, in an odd sort of way. The man seemed to be slightly off his rocker, but Harry didn't mind. It made things interesting. At the moment Harry was sitting atop the counter, eating Undertaker's special bone shaped biscuits. The reaper sat behind him, meticulously braiding his hair, which had grown down to the middle of his back.

They weren't talking today, simply sitting in the comfort of the other's company. William never understood how Harry could stand to be around the man, and was constantly trying to get him to not visit the reaper. He was ignored, however good his intentions might be.

Just as Undertaker finished tying up the braid, the door opened, revealing a group of people, lead by what seemed to be a child. Though Harry had learned over the years not to judge a person on their age alone. He could feel their curious eyes on him, those of the child's butler especially. But his attention was not on them, no it was focused on two figures towards the back of the rather ragtag group.

Beaming, Harry leaped off of the counter and ran at the serenely smiling figure. With an ecstatic shout, he practically tackled the older man, who caught him easily, much to the surprise of everyone else except Ran-Mao and the Undertaker.

"Ah, my little porcelain doll! It certainly has been a long time now hasn't it!"

Looks were exchanged, full of confusion and frustration. Apparently, Lau hadn't told them about any investigations taking place in his opium den. He supposed that was a good thing, neither he nor Lau wanted to attract too much attention, especially not from what appeared to be nobility.

Suddenly he was taken into another pair of arms, belonging to a much softer, definitely female frame. Ran-Mao crushed him to her breast, whispering about how cute he was and how she had missed him.

"Ran Mao," Harry choked out, "Can't, breathe."

"Can one of you explain what the bloody hell is going on here?"

Lau, being his usual unruffled self, simply smiled and looked toward the young boy for a moment before answering.

"Ah, of course my young lord. The young man currently being suffocated by my dear sister is an old, _friend,_ of mine, who has helped me out on multiple occasions."

Although not able to see him, Harry could practically feel frustration radiating off the small boy in waves. Stifling his chuckle at the kid's expense, Harry managed to wiggle out of Ran Mao's grip, turning to introduce himself properly.

"Hadrian Potter, at your service," he announced, placing a charming smile on his face and bowing. " And you are?"

Seeming to size him up, the boy was quiet for a moment, before apparently deciding something. He moved forward out of the group, taking the position of leader.

"I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, and this is Baroness Burnett," he stated cooly, gesturing towards a woman draped in scarlet, reminding Harry undeniably of Grelle. He desperately hoped that their personalities were different, because Harry wasn't sure if he could survive two Grelle's with his sanity intact. Ciel seemed to hesitate for a moment before motioning towards the third person.

"My butler, Sebastian," he concluded shortly. Something in Harry's brain clicked in that moment, recognition flaring as he looked at the butler. So _this_ was the man Grelle wouldn't shut up about. Harry burst out laughing.

Sebastian looked almost insulted, which only caused Harry to laugh harder.

"So," he managed to choke out, " _you're_ the one Grelle keeps talking about. Though I must say he does have a point."

Undertaker, knowing exactly what Harry was talking about started cackling as well. The three in front of him looked alarmed to see the two men giggling and clinging to each other in an attempt to stay upright. Lau didn't even blink an eye, too busy talking to Ran Mao about the pros and cons of an all liquid diet.

"What on earth are you two going on about? Stop this nonsense!"

"Sorry, sorry," Harry wheezed out, pulling himself to sit on the counter once more. "It's just…, he chuckled once more, "oh it's just, I never thought I'd actually meet you, and, _oh,_ Grelle's going to be so jealous."

He saw the earl and his butler exchange glances, and knew he would be questioned later. Oh well. Undertaker, with a grin still on his face, and giggling quietly, turned to them.

"What can I do for you today, my dear earl. Finally come to try out your coffin? Specially made just for you…"

"I'm here for information," here the earl cast a wary glance towards Harry, "which you already knew."

"Are you now?" the silver haired man crooned, "and what kind of information would you be looking for my dear boy?"

"I would prefer this to be a private discussion, Undertaker," Ciel states, sending a pointed look in his direction. The mortician follows his gaze, grin widening upon seeing him.

"Oh don't worry little earl, dear Lily flower over here knows just as much as I do, if not more."

* * *

The butler was looking at him curiously, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. Harry could almost see the pieces starting to come together. The man was missing valuable information however, and was quickly becoming frustrated by it. The wizard could hear the earl and Undertaker discussing some new case of his. Bored, he contented himself with watching Undertakers silver locks shimmer in the dim light of the shop, half listening to see if anything interesting came up.

He perked up when he heard Ciel mention the Viscount Druitt.

"Aleistor?"

Everyone turned to look at him then. The red lady seemed to have forgotten he was there entirely. Undertaker started laughing, hearing the slight hope in the boy's voice. Blushing, Harry glanced down to his tea, wanting to slink away into the basement.

"Oh lily flower, I'm sure he wouldn't mind you paying him a visit even without an invitation," the man seemed to remember something, and threw his head back, laughing once more, " you'll soon be able to have an entire section of jewelry of just what that man has given you!"

Slumping further downward in his chair under the incredulous looks of the others, he glared through his lashes at Undertaker, silently promising revenge.

The butler continued to look at him strangely.

* * *

He should have known those two would be at the party when he heard the mention of Aleistor. There was nothing to be done about it, however, except to continue with his mission. Dancing with the Viscount, he could feel the glares of Ciel and his butler from across the room. He knew they didn't know that he was the man they had met the day before, but he was interfering with their own mission, and he had no doubt that the earl would try and make his move soon.

The earl looked miserable, most likely because of the dress he seemed to have been forced to wear. Harry had no doubt he could be a good actor, but if the boy dropped his mask every time he wasn't in direct contact with his target, someone was going to notice. And if that someone was his target, he would be screwed.

Meanwhile, the Viscount was slowly but surely leading him towards the side of the room, where Harry knew a door lay, hidden behind thick draperies. Leaning down, Aleistor spoke soft and smooth into his ear.

"My darling flower, how sweet you've been. Do you tire of these dreary festivities? Might I suggest something a bit more, _entertaining_?" The man's eyes spoke of desire, and Harry was happy to play off of that. No matter how many times he did this, the Viscount was always the same. It made things so very simple for him. A sultry smile on his lips, he moved slightly closer, hearing the small gasp of want from the man.

"What would you have in mind, my dear Viscount?"

The smile he was given was verging on predatory.

"How about something, a bit more _mature_ , than dancing. Simply follow me, darling, and I'll show you things you've never even thought of."

Glancing around, he nodded subtly to William, who had been watching out of the corner of his eye from across the room. Closer to him, however, he saw Ciel making his way through the crowd, a look of slight panic in his eyes, although whether from him thinking another victim had been taken, or that he had worn his rather lovely dress for nought, Harry could not tell. Winking, he turned away, and let himself be led into the dark beyond the doorway.

* * *

Sorry this took so long, I had the first part and was going to post it until I realized it was only 400 something pages. Then I got stuck on the introductions scene. Like, what the heck would they say? What would he introduce Madam Red as? _What the heck would they **say?!**_

Ah, the struggles of a writer. I hope this was worth the wait.


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as the door had closed, Aleistor had pressed his lips against Harry's, and his hands pulled on Harry's waist, leading him farther back into the room to yet another door. Harry went with it, having been through this routine far too many times. Soon enough the man broke away, opening the door and guiding him in.

"Sleep tight, darling flower."

"Wha.."

Faking confusion was all too easy. Sliding to the floor, Harry let himself go limp. Unconsciousness was fine, but the moment that was always the most difficult was letting himself go completely limp, and let them carry him off into the cage. It reminded him vividly of when Hagrid had to carry him out of the forest.

Fighting off the shudder than threatened to run through him, Harry persevered, listening as they debated taking his dress off. He could use glamours if they did, but it wasn't like he wanted to go through that hassle.

"Just leave her clothes on, you know how many layers women wear these days. Do you want to go through all that?"

"You're right."

They continued on, and Harry held back a sigh of relief.

* * *

He should have known that boy wouldn't have let it rest. That devil of a butler was lurking, probably waiting so that he could make a dramatic entrance and "heroically" save the damsel in distress. It was simply how demons were. They craved glory like a drug, much like their innate desires for pain and chaos.

Soon the blindfold was removed, and the Viscount started telling the enraptured audience about his jewel-like eyes. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what color he chose, someone still ended up comparing his eyes to jewels. It was driving him mad. Though it did bring him a higher bidding price, something Harry probably shouldn't be as proud as he was about.

A quick glance around the room showed him the butler wasn't part of the crowd, he would have towered over everyone. Most likely he was hiding in the rafters, waiting for Harry to start crying out for help. Closing his eyes, he began to concentrate inward, on his magic. Slowly he filtered it out, filling the room with it. One by one they all fell to the floor, asleep. That was part of the thing about being the Master of Death, he had a far wider range of magic, and much more instinctual command over it.

Next he burned the ropes off, careful to not get burned himself, and unlocked the cage, stepping gracefully out of it. He could feel the butler's eyes on him but ignored it, instead heading deeper into the house, finding the phone quickly, having done so many times before.

Making his way back to the party, he absentmindedly wondered when the demon was planning on confronting him. As if on cue, the man dropped down, landing silently in front of him. He supposed that was his answer then. Sighing, he looked up into the man's red eyes, annoyed with his shortness. Why on earth did all his friends have to be tall? At least Death was the same height as him. Actually, he probably shrunk Harry down just so he could have someone his size. The bastard.

Sighing once more, he focused his attention back on the dark figure in front of him, who was once more looking at him curiously.

"What is it my dear demon friend? Has your master charged you with the task of being the hero? Or were you simply curious? Either way, I'm leaving," and with that he began to move around the butler in his path. Just as he thought that the demon might actually let him go back to the party, an arm shot out, a gloved hand snatching at his wrist, and stopping him in his tracks, lest he end up with a dislocated shoulder.

Groaning, he turned back and once more faced the butler. Those rusty colored eyes were narrowed, and he seemed to deciding something. That wasn't a good sign. The next not-good sign came with his next words.

"You're coming with me,"

Oh, _hell_ no. In that moment, Harry decided he'd rather deal with the shoulder than whatever the devil had planned. He was probably expecting it but that didn't matter to Harry at this point. Letting out a shrill whistle, he twisted his arm, using a bit of magic to help loosen the grip on it. Backup would be here in moments. Cursing his skirts for preventing him kicking the butler, he brought out one of his daggers only to find himself in the man's grip, what felt like a, wait was that a butter knife, at his throat.

At that moment the door at the end of the hallway burst open, revealing Ronald, who had been waiting on the roof in case he was needed. Next another door opened and Will stepped out, as composed as ever.

"Put the boy down, demon."

"And what happens if I don't?"

The sound of a death scythe cut through the air, before the spear head slammed into the wall next to the butler's head.

"You know what would be most effective, my dear William? If we simply called over, Grelle."

Harry could feel the demon's shudder at the mere mention of the redhead. Sadly though, he stood his ground. Of course it couldn't have been that easy.

* * *

So that's a shitty ending huh. Oh well, I needed to get something out before you all went mad. It isn't quite 1,000 but it's close enough. Sigh. Take it.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't simply apparate, that would be useless, as he would end up taking Sebastian with him. Unless he managed to get him to let go, even for a second. The demon was gripping his wrist tightly, and Harry knew he wouldn't be left without bruises.

He could practically feel the moment Sebastian seemed to realize something. That couldn't end well for him. Suddenly an arm was around his waist, and he was pulled close to the man's chest. What on earth-

"You care for him then, _Director?_ "

Harry could feel the butler's warm breath behind his ear and shuddered involuntarily. Even from where he was he could see how the reapers stiffened.

"He is quite, _interesting_ , isn't he?"

Was he, _nuzzling_ him? Harry wasn't too sure what the man was doing at this point, unless he was simply distracting them all, in which case he was doing a great job. Harry still had no clue how the hell he was going to get out of this mess.

Harry knew that Sebastian was trying to rile up William, but he was not expecting to feel the butler's warm tongue on his neck. Tensing, Harry's mind went into overdrive. Without consciously thinking about it, his magic reacted to his raging emotions. Electricity spread underneath his skin, not harming him, but shocking the butler attached to him. Surprised, the butler let him go, and he immediately sprinted down the hall in the direction of William, who was closer. In that same moment, the two reapers leaped forward, straight for the butler.

Harry wanted to stay and watch, wanted to make sure neither of them got hurt, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't know what it was the demon wanted, but he knew enough to realize that he had to leave, and quickly. With one last glance at the ensuing battle, he turned on the spot, vanishing with a soft crack.

* * *

Appearing in his bedroom at Grimmauld, he immediately began to strip off the many different layers of his dress, wanting to be rid of the night completely. He knew that he would have to face what had happened eventually, but right now he did not care to dwell on the complexities of supernatural beings. Harry was tired, and Harry was going to bed.

Until Death arrived, landing on top of Harry, and then flailing around so much they were soon completely tangled. Pulling himself out with some difficulty, the disgruntled young man looked over at the sherbert haired being still struggling to disentangle himself from the bed sheets.

Harry opened his mouth, ready to shriek at the being, but stopped when he noticed the panic and fear in the man's eyes, not all of it simply from the bed sheet he was still stuck in. Sighing, he crawled over, gently tugging Death out of his cage of fabric.

"What is it, Death? It must be important if you're this panicked about it."

Now that he was closer, Harry was taken aback by the tears in Death's eyes. What could possibly have happened? And then Death threw himself into Harry's arms.

"Oh, Harry! I heard what happened from Will! I'm so sorry, Harry!" His words were difficult to make out through his tears and the fact his face was shoved into Harry's shirt. "I felt that something was off, but I didn't bother to check! He could've hurt you! I'm terrible at this! I'm supposed to protect you, and now look what's happened! Forgive me, Master! I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry!"

Harry was at a loss for words. What was _that_ supposed to mean?

"Alright, calm down. First things first, you gotta stop calling me Master. Secondly, why do you feel it's your job to protect me? I believe I've already proved I can take care of myself. Lastly, why on earth is this such a big deal?"

Death only seemed to sob harder. His shoulders shook violently, and he was taking in great heaving breaths that didn't seem to have much effect.

"I- I'm sorry, Harry! It's just that he's a _demon,_ and I know you know that but that doesn't mean he can't catch you off guard! Even if I don't like to admit it, he _is_ more powerful than my Shinigami, even if it isn't by a lot.

"And it's a big deal because you're my Master! I'm supposed to _protect_ you! I'm supposed to take care of you!"

And then, in a broken whisper,

"I'm supposed to help you like you've helped me…"

* * *

They had stayed like that the rest of the night, huddled together on the floor, surrounded by the blankets, and falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. When Harry had woken the next day, it was to a no longer crying but definitely still upset Death making breakfast. Well, technically lunch. Harry didn't say anything, willing to let Death speak when he was ready.

They ate their food in surprisingly comfortable silence, and once finished, Harry was dragged to the couch, and immediately was sat down and made a pillow of. After a few minutes of simply laying there, Death spoke up.

"I don't think you understand how you've helped me, Harry. You've done so much, without even realizing it. I was so _lonely_ , before you came along. When you finally gained all three hallows and became my Master completely, you became my _everything_. You held me together, Harry." his voice broke, and his breathing became unsteady. Harry could tell he was holding back another round of tears.

"You're my best friend, Harry, and I can't let you get hurt."

* * *

Death hadn't let him leave the house for two weeks after that. He was still allowed to attend dinner at the Weasley's of course, and Grelle was allowed to come around a couple times, but that was it. Nothing that could possibly end badly, (besides Grelle,because that could end badly no matter what), and absolutely _no missions._

Death had even banned William from coming anywhere _near_ the house.

Harry thought it was a bit overkill, but he wasn't about to argue with a protective sherbert fluff of anger. He had learned his lesson a couple years back, when Death had literally chained him to the bed so that he would go to sleep.

* * *

When Death had finally, albeit begrudgingly, let him leave the house, the first thing he did was visit Undertaker. He had missed the man's company more than he had thought he would.

Appearing in the basement, he made his way up the stairs, and was about to shove the door open when he heard voices. Resisting the urge to sigh, he was about to make his way back downstairs to wait, when one of the voices caught his attention.

Earl Phantomhive.

Stiffening, Harry had to forcibly stop himself from groaning. This was bad. If the Earl was here, that meant the butler was too, and he had no doubt that the butler would already know he was here. On the other hand, it wasn't like the butler could actually do anything with another person around, and if he stayed in the basement, the butler wouldn't even be able to get to him.

He was about to head back down into the basement, before something they were saying caught his attention. Something about missing children. Lots of them.

He would know if there was a sudden rise in children's murders, so that meant that whoever had taken them was only keeping them, although that wasn't necessarily better. The question was though, how would someone be able to obtain that many children, without their parents seeing it happen? They would have to either be poor or homeless, and did he say something about there being so signs of any struggle? Like they went along willingly?

…

He would have to investigate this.

Mind made up, he once again turned and bounded down the reaching his destination, he turned on the spot, and vanished with a sound like snapping fingers.

* * *

Well... that took forever. I'm a horrible person I know. So we're just going to forget whatever I said before about having a once a week schedule, because NOPE. Especially if you want the chapters to be longer than they are. Sigh. I won't leave you hanging for 2 years though. I'm not that horrible.

Alright lovelies, I hope you enjoyed, leave comments if you have any suggestions or creative criticism for me!

 ** _Hello again, I had this as a whole chapter before realizing it was against the rules. sigh. anyway, I just wanted to restate that this does not follow the exact timeline of Kuroshitsuji. I will be taking many events or instances, but necessarily in order or with the same details._**

 ** _To clarify further, the Jack the Ripper case did not happen, and neither Grelle or Madam Red did anything. I wanted to keep Grelle and Harry's friendship, and that never could have happened if I left it. Thank you all!_**


	13. Chapter 13

**(Alright so I see I confused some people before. Chapter 13 was never a chapter, it was simply an author's note explaining that the Ripper arc would not be happening in this story. And I guess you can't have Author's Notes instead of a chapter anymore.**

 **To the main point, yes while the arc could have happened, I suppose, it's fanfiction, and I decided not to, because reasons.**

 **And I mean, like Sakura Lisel said, Grelle wasn't there to be a catalyst for the whole thing. So there, have that as a reason I guess…)**

* * *

Turns out he didn't have to look far. Almost as soon as he arrived, William had come up to him, requesting his help in the case.

"We're going undercover, staying out of the way and simply watching until the time comes."

"Alright, but where exactly will we be?"

"Have you seen the signs for the circus in town?"

* * *

It was the man at the corner of the advertisement that helped him to finally realized what it was that he could do. He had not heard the comforting hisses of the serpents for a few years, and seeing this man, who looked to be about the age of his own immortal body, brought back a sense of nostalgia and wistfulness he didn't know he possessed.

A small smile graced his features, and he quickly turned and ran for the nearest empty alley, on his way to tell William he was ready.

* * *

Walking in, you could tell immediately that the first-tiers had been together a long time. They were like family to each other, while the others were treated friendly, but kept at arm's length. You couldn't tell at first, but it became apparent soon enough. What bothered Harry, though, was that even though the snake charmer was a first-tier, he was not fully included in the group.

"Why hello there you two! How may we be of service today?" A man with orange hair greeted them, bowing low before sweeping up again. Harry recognized him from the advertisements as the ring leader.

Keeping slightly behind the taller man, Harry let William take the lead for now.

"We, ah, saw the advertisements, and were wondering if you would take on any performers?"

"Really now? We'll have to see then, tell me, what is it you can do?"

Harry, only from his experience with the man was able to detect his almost imperceptible sigh. For the first time, Harry wondered what exactly it was that William was going to choose? He probably could have done most, if not all of the acts himself.

"Most anything, really,"

Well then.

"We'll have to go through and see how you are then," Suddenly he practically pushed William out of the way to look at Harry. Startled, he jumped back only to be caught by the arms and held in place. The man was peering closely at him, what he could be looking for, Harry hadn't a clue. Then, just as suddenly, the man moved back and smiled widely. "So tell me, what talent have you to bring to our circus?"

"Well, sir-"

"Ah, none of that now, the name's, Joker!"

"Alright, Joker then. I know you already have someone with this but-"

"The more the merrier I say, what is it."

Harry hesitated for a moment. This was his ticket into the circus, or straight to the asylum.

"I can speak to snakes," although he was staring into the man's violet eyes, any boldness or confidence that could have given him was undermined by how soft his voice came out. He grimaced slightly- that was not how he wanted that to go.

Joker's eyes were blown wide, and he seemed to have frozen in place. In the next second though, his smile was back full force, and somehow even wider than before. His eyes glittered and he seemed sincerely happy as well, which was almost struck Harry as odd, except there was no reason it should.

"Really?" he breathed. One of his hands came up, almost as if he intended to caress the smaller man's cheek, but he caught himself quickly. Straightening, he whirled around, seeming to look over the small group of people who had wandered over to see what was happening. Finally he sighed, and turned to the young man who had been hovering near him.

"Dagger, wouldya go on and fetch Snake for me? Meet us over by the practice tent, you two can help me test these rookies skills."

"Yes, sir!"

Turning, the man started off towards one of the bigger tents, glancing over his shoulder at them once.

"Follow me, you two," he called out, before continuing onward.

Exchanging brief glances, he and William moved quickly, Harry having a much harder time keeping up with the other's much longer legs.

* * *

It was ten minutes before the other two showed up at the tent, and that time consisted of William trying to engage Joker in a serious conversation while Harry wandered around the tent, feeling Joker's eyes following him. He passed the time by watching some of the newer performers practicing on the tightrope.

"Harry!" came the call from William. Jogging back, Harry saw that two had turned to four, the young man with the strangely colored hairstyle was back, this time with the man he'd noticed on the advertisement. As soon as he got within hearing range, dozens of small voices filled his senses, way more than the amount of people there. That was when he noticed all the serpents simply hanging off of the man.

No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't suppress the giant dorky grin that spread across his face at the sight. He had forgotten how much he loved the conversations he had had with the snakes throughout his life.

"Alright, Dagger, you take William over here through the tent, see how he is at each skill."

"Yes, sir!"

"And you," continued Joker, turning to look at him, "William said your name was Harry, yes?"

"Yes, si-"

"Great!" cut in Joker, not even giving Harry a chance to finish the statement. "Now, you claim you can speak to snakes. This here, is our resident snake charmer, aptly named, Snake. How about you show us a bit of what you can do."

Harry could tell that Joker wasn't expecting much out of him. Snake, though appearing indifferent, seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of letting Harry near him and his serpents. Which was probably not a bad thing, as an untrained person could very easily hurt either themselves, or the snakes.

Eyes still alight with delight, Harry took a slow step toward Snake, maintaining a small distance, so as not to crowd the poor man. He watched as the serpents took notice to him, tasting the air, whispering excitably when they tasted his magic.

' _Is that…?''_

' _I think it is…'_

' _Truly?'_

Harry could see the confusion on Snake's face as he tried to understand what it was that his serpents were arguing about so urgently. After a minute, what seemed to be a milksnake moved forward, reaching her head off of her owner's arm towards Harry.

' _Speaker?'_

It was a female's voice, soft and hesitant, unsure of whether or not they were correct. A gentle smile appeared on Harry's face.

' _ **Indeed my dear,'**_

He could hear Joker's sharp intake of breath, and see Snake's widening eyes. They had expected him to be a fraud, or an over imaginative kid with big dreams and no plans.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto Snake's face, and for a moment the two of them simply looked at each other, delighted in their similarities.

* * *

William was not happy with his chosen name. Joker had decided to call him suit, and now Harry was watching him mope. He was having a difficult time not bursting out laughing at the expression on the older man's face. Harry hadn't thought it was possible for William to actually pout.

His good mood was tempered though, when he remembered his own stage name. Although it wasn't quite as bad as _Suit_ , he sure didn't want to be named after a bloody _colour._ Where was the originality in calling him Emerald? It's the kind of name an eleven year old girl would come up with. Though he supposed that Snake definitely had it worse than both of them.

Snake himself didn't seem to mind his name, but Harry had wanted to violently throttle whoever had come up with it the first time he heard it.

So far they hadn't found any information on the missing children. Their days were spent in a never ending cycle of practice. Joker had also found out about his affinity for aerial tricks, and had him practicing the trapezes as well his routine with Snake. Turns out Quidditch wasn't as useless as Hermione thought.

After a few days however, they had a breakthrough.

"Emerald! I've decided I'm going to place you up in the first-tiers area, alright? That way you'll be closer to Snake and his pets, and you can build a better partnership. I can't have you two being strangers now can I?"

"N-no, of course not, sir!"

"And besides, I'd like to start you performing as soon as possible, so hopefully you'll be up in one of our next few shows. You've basically got the routine down, but I want to really make sure you've got it, and I want to be able to have at least two full cast practices so you can see how everything flows together.

" I hope that's alright with you, wadda ya say, kid?"

"That sounds fantastic, sir."

* * *

MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!

I'm so so sorry... I'm a disappointment to myself, I need to write more.

HOWEVER, I currently have two different essay's to complete over my winter break. Which means I won't be writing like any of this. but I mean, this time it's not me forgetting, so that's a good thing I suppose.

I made sure this chapter was 1,500 words, as a special treat for you all and to declare war on whoever commenting saying the chapters were getting shorter. Excuse you, because that is not the case... anymore...

Thanks to all those who reviewed, they really help inspire me to write more. But please, if you're reviewing, don't just tell me to write more. If you shove that in with some other, useful stuff, that's fine, but don't just tell me to update. I appreciate hearing from you guys, what you like what you dislike, constructive criticism, and if you have anything you really want to see happen, I'll see what I can do. If I can't fit it into the story, I'll try and write a separate one-shot.

No promises tho.

Alright you guys, have a nice holiday season, stay safe and have fun!


	14. Chapter 14

Ever since they had been accepted at the circus Harry had been nervously awaiting the day that the young lord and that butler of his arrived. He was worried though. Two weeks had passed and there had been no sign of them. Day by day his anxiety grew, worried for when it was he would have to see the demon again. The interest those two had in him would not turn out well for Harry.

He knew Snake could feel his distress at the entire situation. He didn't press, however, and simply tried to do his best to comfort Harry, even without knowing the exact problem. Harry decided that Snake was now probably one his favorite people ever.

* * *

His fears finally came to fruition at his second show. Thankfully, he only felt the demons strange magic after his own act, or else he probably would've completely ruined the entire performance. He had been surprised when Joker had decided to put him out with the first-tiers, especially when some of the others circus workers had been there for months before him, waiting for a chance to perform.

Joker had told him that other than the fact that he was the only one Snake could perform with, he had learned exceptionally quickly, and he had already been physically fit for the job. Which was to be expected, Harry supposed, as he had kept up his training after the war, even though he had decided against becoming an Auror.

Hermione had never really understood why, but Harry's paranoia that anything could go wrong had helped him before, plus, being physically fit had paid off when he started helping the reapers.

* * *

He had been relaxing with Emily after the show, when he had felt a whisper of the demon's brand of magic, moving across his skin with a feeling similar to pins and needles.

 _Sspeaker… what hass happened?_

 _ **It's…. nothing, Emily…. nothing you have to worry about...go back to Snake for now…**_

Once she had slithered off reluctantly, he stood and went to look for William, moving as quickly as he could without seeming suspicious. The odd sensation was getting stronger, crackling across his skin like the moment before a lighting strike, and Harry desperately wanted to find Will before the demon saw him. The man would already know he was here, but Harry was trying to put off that confrontation for as long as he could.

Where on earth could William be anyway? Why did he always have to run off to some hiding place?

"Hey there, Emerald!"

Harry froze, afraid to turn around and see just who was with Joker.

"Have you seen Doctor, by any chance, this gentleman here got bit by Bessie and I wanna get 'im checked on."

Slowly, he spun to face Joker, and stared once more into those glinting vermilion eyes.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure how he found himself standing in a corner of the medical tent, watching the butler gracefully avoid the many throwing knives speeding towards bastard deserved it. The man knew what he was doing with Beast, and had kept it up just for the reaction. However, instead of being kicked out like Harry had hoped, Joker had invited him and his "friend", to come and try out tomorrow.

Why couldn't Harry's life ever be easy.

He could feel those smug eyes following him as he stalked out of the tent.

* * *

 _He wass trying to get into the first-tier tentss, dear Speaker… He seemed to be looking for something, though his interest in your tent did not seem to be connected..._

Harry sighed in relief, thanking Emily quickly before heading off to find William. It was good to know that at least they were at the circus for a reason besides him. He hadn't thought they would go as far as to try out because of the missing children case, but he supposed that as the Queen's Watchdog, the Earl would make sure to see everything through to its full extent.

* * *

Watching the two supposedly practicing was both frustrating and amusing. It was obvious that the Earl had no hidden talents to help him fit in in a place like this. He relied too much on his butler and had never truly learned any extra skills. Sure he could use a pistol, but that didn't mean much for him. Seeing how he was, especially next to the demon, it was almost comical.

However, the hilarity from his observations was clouded in his mind by the irritation and panic filling his mind. How on earth were he and Will supposed to do their job now? Granted, they were just waiting, but knowing the demon's nature, more were going to be dying than necessary. The fact that he was tied down to the Earl only made him slightly less of a nuisance, the Earl killed almost as unnecessarily as his butler.

Harry could only hope that they would choose to ignore him in favor of doing their job, but he knew that it would never work out like that. Those two were fully capable of focusing on their task while driving him insane with their attempts to learn more about him.

He knew for a fact that he didn't exist anywhere except the reapers files during this time. He wished he could watch the Earl's face become increasingly more frustrated when he discovers that Harry literally does not exist. Sadly, that fact also meant his chances of being kidnapped just flew through the roof. Harry was not looking forward to when the Earl's curiosity and impatience reached its peak.

* * *

The one thing Harry hated about the circus was the showers. First of all, they were bloody _cold._ Second, there was the fact that they all showered together. It was actually almost like the Quidditch locker rooms, too bad Harry had never liked those either. He didn't want other people seeing his scars. He had gained many from both his… lovely family… and from his… _adventures._

The only person who knew the full extent of them was Death, mostly because he had sensed them and basically forced Harry to show them to him. Harry had to both order and physically restrain him from going after the Dursley's.

He sighed, once again wishing he could just go back home for a few minutes to take a nice, heated, private shower. Instead, he made his way back his own tent, water bucket and towel in hand. It was the best he could do until they finally left this place.

Thoughts wandering, he didn't notice the figure barreling towards him until he was knocked backwards into the dirt, water spilling all over him.

"Shit!" Seeing just who it was that had run into him, he yelled after him. "Watch where you're-"

However, just before the kid rounded the corner, Harry caught a glimpse of his tear stained face, cheeks flushed and panic shining prominently in his eyes. The boy's clothes looked like they were wet, something must've happened in the showers. He wondered if the boy had similar secrets spread across his skin.

Well, he probably didn't have some giant mystical tattoo, but Harry would bet he had some scars he didn't want anyone to know about.

Harry sighed before getting up and grabbing the towel, looking around before wandlessly drying it. He knew he couldn't just leave the boy to deal with whatever it was on his own, besides, it was cold and the kid's clothes were damp. The butler, however, was sure to arrive soon to the scene, and Harry did not want to deal with any sort of confrontation.

Heaving another sigh, he gave up fighting with himself and started jogging towards the wagons.

* * *

Deep breaths, Harry, it's not like the kid's gonna kill you for being nice.

But his demon might.

Shit.

Deep breaths, Harry.

You're a Gryffindor, Harry. Just do it.

* * *

In what was definitely one of his stupider choices, Harry didn't announce himself before simply walking up and wrapping the towel around the earl.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here in those clothes."

He could tell that he had startled the earl, who had obviously expected his butler. Harry could see his shoulders tense, though the kid was trying hard not to show his surprise. Too bad. Harry had been through war and enough interrogations to notice.

"Look, kid, I know I'm not your butler, and you probably are gonna hit me or something, but I'm too nice a person to let you freeze to death. Now I'm going to leave before that same butler arrives and tries to eviscerate me."

Harry had almost made it to freedom before the kid called out to him.

"How did you know about that?" The tone was full of suspicion and thinly veiled accusations. Harry realized his mistake in referring to Black as the kid's butler.

Shit.

Good job, Harry, you blew it.

William's going to kill you.

Shit.

"Know about what?" Harry still hadn't turned around. He knew had been caught.

"Do you believe me to be a fool?" Drawing himself off the ground, the boy forced Harry around to face him. Grabbing his shirt, he pulled Harry down until he could glare directly into his eyes. "Do not talk around the subject, you know full well what I am referring to."

Being so close to the kid's face was even more unnerving when he knew exactly what lay beneath that eyepatch of his.

Sighing, he let his shoulders sag.

"Alright fine, you got me. May I introduce myself, once more, Lord Phantomhive. Hadrian Potter, at your service."

"The man from Undertaker's shop? What in blazes are you doing here?"

The whoosh of fabric and the soft sound of shoes hitting the dirt behind him told him that the butler he had been trying to avoid for so long had finally cornered him. Why was he ever nice in the first place? Why couldn't he have just walked away and let the demon take care of the boy?

"Indeed, my Lord, I would quite like to know that myself, especially after our… _meeting_ … shall we say, at the Viscount Druitt's party."

At the butler's mention, Harry began to get annoyed.

"Do you two really think you're the only ones with a job to do? Well, I mean technically I don't have to do it but still, there are other people who are just trying to get their jobs done."

"And what, pray tell, makes it your job, or any else's besides mine. That job, as well as this one, were assigned to me by her Majesty as the Queen's Watchdog."

"Do you think the Shinigami don't have supervisors in charge of everything? And who decides whether it's the queen or the Shinigami leaders who overrule. Besides, it's not like the demon's don't have a hierarchy either, what about their leaders. Although personally I'd rather they didn't have supreme rule."

Harry could hear a soft exasperated huff at the mention. He had to resist rolling his eyes.

"So you're a Shinigami?"

"Is that the only thing you listened to? For your information, no, I'm not a Shinigami, just a… well, let's call it an associate for now."

"Do tell, what exactly you mean to say by associate. Moreover, what would we be calling you once the present now has passed."

"Well that's for me to know, and you to never ever find out because I don't like you or your demon friend. Now if you could just let go of my shirt, I'd be very grateful."

The earl narrowed his eyes at him before using his grip to shove Harry away, causing him to stumble and fall back, straight into the butler's chest. Unnaturally warm hands grip his upper arms, and he can feel the abnormal heat through his shirt. The earl has already turned and started walking away, uncaring of whatever his butler did, somehow _trusting_ the demon to not jeopardize their already fragile cover.

Hot breath was once more next to his ear, and he could feel soft strands of hair brushing against his cheek.

"Best run along now, little one. I'm sure we'll meet again soon, and you can explain just what it is that makes you so… _special._ "

A low chuckle echoed in his ear, and suddenly the grip on his arms was gone; the only remnant of the demon's presence being the brush of wind flowing past.


End file.
